


Love is the Red of the Rose (On Your Coffin Door)

by orphan_account



Category: GOT7, Monsta X (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Genderfluid Min Yoongi | Suga, Kim Seokjin | Jin as Hades, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga as Persephone, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-04-12 10:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Seokjin walks by a flower shop, he isn't intrigued by how it stands out from the other shops nearby. He isn't stopped by the plants thriving in the dead of winter, the too-tight shirt of an employee, or how it blends seamlessly between the mortal and immortal realms. The only thing that stands out about the place is an employee whose nametag he can't even fully make out. He's intrigued by Yoon, whoever they areOr simply, how Jin, King of the Underworld, fell in love with Yoongi, God of Spring.
Relationships: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Park Jimin, Kim Seokjin | Jin/Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang, Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78
Collections: 2019 YoonJin Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fic, I’ve spent months working on it and hope that you’re able to enjoy my hard work!!
> 
> Slight disclaimer: if you’re reading this fic within the first few days of it being published I wasn’t able to fully finish the edits as I got a concussion at work and can’t look at a computer for very long; any semi incomplete chapters will be fixed within the coming days as I heal so please look forward to that! Thanks!!

Seokjin notices them for the first time from afar.

He’s traveling through the mortal realm after a meeting with his brothers one afternoon just on the cusp of spring. It would have been easier to have Changkyun pick him up from the café Shownu had chosen for their “Bi-Weekly Brother Brunch” this time around. The seasons were changing, and Seokjin thought it would be a waste to not enjoy at least some of the crisp air the Hills has to offer before returning to the staler atmosphere of his apartment in the Valley. 

So he decides to walk. 

The city is full of scenic locations, tall skyscrapers reaching up as high as mountains, a river running calmly through its heart, the mix of the old and the new living and breathing side by side. The roads wind a path up and down the rolling landscape. It’s reminiscent of the hillsides and mountains he explored when he was much younger, millennia ago when the world itself was much younger.

He’s crossing through one of those numerous sloped alleyways when he spots a shop that he would categorise as wildly out of place.

It was on one of the hidden streets that sat on the blurred line between the Mortal and Immortal Realms. In the midst of the bars and cafes lining both sides of the narrow street sits what looks to be a flower shop. Despite the cold winter chill that still clings to the air, the storefront is overflowing with plants of all colors and types. Vines of ivy cover the building’s side and stems of leaves climbing out of the baskets hang from the short awning reading “Nestis” above the entrance. 

There’s an employee reaching up to water them, struggling really from the way Jin can see them balancing on the tips of their toes as he continues his descent down the sloped street. When the employee finally relaxes their stance and moves on to the lower baskets and pots, Seokjin stops dead in his tracks. 

They’re beautiful. 

He can only see their profile, but even from this distance, Seokjin can see the gentle slope of their nose peeking from the blonde, almost white fringe framing their face that’s fallen from the short ponytail at the base of their neck. Their skin is almost as pale, bits of pink dusting the peaks of their cheeks and the tips of their nose, highlighting the constellations of moles and freckles resting on those same cheeks. They’re leaning down now, placing the watering can on the pavement and dusting off their pants as they stand back up, allowing Seokjin to just make out the first syllable on the name-tag hanging from their apron.

Yoon.

They, Yoon, sigh as they tuck the hair hanging in their face behind their ear, looking over their work. They’re turning towards where Seokjin is stood frozen when he realises that perhaps standing and staring at someone in the middle of an alley isn’t the best idea, so he does the most logical thing.

He dips into a joining alleyway and disappears in a cloud of smoke and brimstone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Admittedly, quick travelling away wasn’t the coolest thing Seokjin could have done, but to his credit, one tends to panic in the face of quite possibly the love of their existence. 

In any other circumstances, he’s sure he would have introduced himself to Yoon, might have gotten to know them, possibly over a cup of coffee or something, like how he’d heard mortals did, but this wasn’t any other circumstance. This was a chance encounter with someone who rivalled the beauty of Aphrodite themself, there wasn’t exactly a rulebook on how to react to a situation like this.

So, Seokjin did what he did best.

He lurked.

It was nothing more than spending a few afternoons a week sipping coffee at the cafe across from the shop Yoon worked at, admiring them as they hung flowers and arranged the pots each afternoon, but for Seokjin it was enough.

_ They must be a nymph _ , Seokjin thought one afternoon as he watched Yoon walk a couple out, talking and laughing. They were beautiful enough to be one that was certain, clear from the way their pale cheeks always bared a slight flush and how their hair was always styled in a way that made their face look exceptionally soft and round. From their appearance, all soft sweaters and pinned up hair, to the way they seemed to welcome everyone into the small shop like an old friend, they were perfect in every way Seokjin could imagine.

Which could explain why he had such a hard time even approaching them. He’s sure that if he’d brought this up to anyone, even his brothers, they would tell him to just talk to the florist, that there was no harm in just talking to someone, especially when they were a nymph and Seokjin was a god. But that was his problem.

Seokjin was a god, true, but he was the God of Death. He ruled over the Underworld, over the lost souls of the realms, and judged their transgressions. He was the keeper of Gaia’s Precious Stones and Protector of Elysium. Seokjin was dark and he was feared, and there was no way anyone as warm and bright as Yoon would ever consider him.

So, Seokjin continued to lurk. He wasn’t sure if he did it for his benefit, to quell the ache he felt in his chest when he saw Yoon, or whether it was to try and work up the courage to just talk to them but either way it made him feel better. Besides, it wasn’t harming anyone, not really. If anything, he was boosting business at the cafe by spending so much time there.

  
  


That’s what he tells himself when it’s his turn to pick their brunch spot and he sends the cafe’s location to their family group chat. He was helping a small local business gain two new customers, nothing more. If he decided they sit at his regular table, the one right outside the entrance with the perfect view of Yoon’s shop, that was just because it provided the closest seats to the enchanted stones that warmed the patio area. If he seemed distracted from the conversation going on around him, like he was staring out in the direction where Nestis just happened to be, where he could see Yoon walking around inside, small and cute as always, that was just because Yugyeom had a vision right before he left that warned him about eating too much grain and that’s just been on his mind. That’s all.

“Are you interested in flowers now, Hyung?” Namjoon asks, breaking Seokjin away from what he now realises was almost 15 straight minutes of him staring at Yoon’s shop across the road. His tone is curious, no underlying accusation or judgment, just a simple question, yet Seokjin can feel the tips of his ears heat in embarrassment. 

“No, of course not,” Seokjin answers as quick as he can, turning back to face his brothers at the table. Neither seemed to have noticed the flush he could feel on his face. Shownu was as stoic as usual, sipping his coffee and picking at what was probably his third pastry. Namjoon was waiting for more of a response, his expression open and curious from what Seokjin could see from above the thick scarf he wore. 

“That’s more your thing isn’t it, Namjoonie?”

It wasn’t more than an excuse, just a throwaway statement to distract the others from asking why he was staring at the flower shop across the street waiting for Yoon to show up again. Still, Namjoon jumped on the chance to talk about the family of aquatic vegetation he was raising in his apartment. 

“But it can be our  _ thing _ , Hyung! It’s so rewarding to watch and nurture a living creature as it grows into a part of the world! Just today Jjin-Jjin started sprouting another leaf, he’s been doing so well lately! Do you want to come over and see?” 

“I’d love to Joon, but I actually have to get home after this. Jungkook said he wasn’t feeling well, so…”

“Ah, that’s okay then, maybe next time! I was actually heading to-”

Seokjin zones out once Namjoon starts listing seemingly every flower shop he’s visited in the last six months. It wasn’t that he didn’t support Namjoon’s interests but much like Shownu’s workout hobby, there was a point where it got too much for Seokjin to join in on. 

“...but the best place to get supplies is Nestis. Persephone has the best quality stuff, obviously, and-”

“What? Who? What?”

“Nestis? Persephone’s shop? It’s right over there,” Namjoon points to the shop across and Seokjin has to fight the urge to turn and look. “I’m glad you picked here to meet up. I usually just order items and have them delivered but now that I know how close the shop is I can just pick them up.” 

Seokjin thinks Joon says more, but he can’t hear it through the ringing in his ears. Persphone? Was Yoon Persephone? Child of Demeter and her water nymph lover? Goddess of the Harvest and Bringer of Spring? That Persephone?

Seokjin was ruined. 

It made sense, more than Yoon being a simple forest nymph. The abundance of flowers he saw at the storefront every day and how healthy they were despite it still being winter in the city was such an obvious tell that Seokjin felt dumb for not considering that even a lesser immortal, let alone a ruler of an entire domain, had something to do with it. Now that he knew that there was a chance that Yoon, beautiful, ethereal Yoon, could be Persephone was terrifying.

Had they seen him staring? Did they tell their mother? Is Seokjin only days away from an ambush from Hyuna and Hyojong themselves for even daring to look at their child? Was Yugyeom right when he said he’d meet his end by barley? 

Seokjin is still in the midst of his internal crisis, contemplating if he should call the oracles to double check if Yugyeom or even Jungkook had a more recent vision about his fate, when Shownu speaks up.

“Kihyunie was meaning to go there actually.” Shownu says it while scrolling through his messages, probably double checking his texts with Kihyun to be sure. “I think he wanted...a Chaste Tree sapling? Or maybe it was seeds? He was working on a healing drought for his allergies before I left, and I told him I’d pick some up from Persphone’s shop since we were meeting near it. I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me but if you’re busy-”

“No!” Seokjin stands up so quickly that the cutlery on the table shakes. His brothers stare up at him, alarmed but mostly confused. Seokjin stares back realising what he said, and how it made no sense with the lie he’d already established.

“No?” Shownu seems unsure, which is valid consideringSeokjin is suddenly looming over the table in a panic like he’d just heard that Jungkook had released Cerberus into the courtyard again. 

“No, I mean...if Kihyun is sick, you should head home! I’ll go for you!” Seokjin grabs his coffee from the table and downs the last of it. It’s still incredibly hot, but he’d rather suffer a few burns than stay here a moment longer.

“But isn’t Jungkook sick too?”

“Yeah, but he’ll be fine! I was actually going to head there to get him some healing herbs as well, I’ll just buy the Chaste and have Changkyun bring it to you guys. It’ll be fine.” Seokjin gathers his phone and pushes in his chair before starting across the street. 

“But-”

“It’s fine! It’s okay, I’m heading out, bye!”

“Hyu-”

“Bye!”

________________________________

Seokjin isn’t even sure why he’s doing this. Earlier this morning he was too afraid to even talk to Yoon, but now he’s walking towards Nestis like he belongs there. Maybe it has something to do with the fear of missing a chance placed so neatly in his lap, or with his embarrassment of thinking his brothers had figured out why he had actually chosen that cafe as their meeting place. Either way, he is going to use this opportunity for what it is.

A chance to finally talk to Yoon. 

The sound of a bell jingles as Seokjin enters Nestis. He’s greeted by the overwhelming but not wholly unpleasant smell of soil and flora. He’s surrounded by color, greens and pastels, terracotta and painted marble, standing out spectacularly in the long black coat he’d chosen to keep the last chills of winter at bay as he looks around the pots placed near the entrance.

He isn’t too unfamiliar with plants; he’s helped Joon with his numerous ventures into botany enough to be able to pick out the ferns from the ivy. Flowers, on the other hand, are another story. He thinks the purple buds resting in the pot in front of him are iris, or maybe larkspur, but he can’t be completely sure on sight alone. 

He thinks he’s almost got it, possibly remembering something Shownu had told him that he’d heard from one of Jooheon’s nymph friends, when a loud voice calls to him from across the room. 

“Welcome to Nestis! Can I help you with anything?”

Looking up, Seokjin makes eye contact with quite possibly the second largest person he’s ever seen, other than Shownu. Where his brother is muscular in a way that complimented his height, the man smiling widely behind the counter is more broad and compact despite appearing to be no taller than Seokjin himself. He was seemingly composed of more muscle than anything else, if the t-shirt and apron clinging to his arms and chest are any indication. He is just as pale as Yoon, though from where his bangs peek from under his beanie, his hair is a darker black. It isn’t until he speaks again, asking if Seokjin is looking for something in particular, that Seokjin hears the slight lisp that he suddenly recognised as belonging to the other employee he’d seen working alongside Yoon. 

The one that he’d heard laughing and speaking with them outside the shop around lunch time. 

The one he’d seen waiting for Yoon to lock the door at the end of the day. 

The one that threw his arm around Yoon’s shoulders as the walked away from the storefront, much too close and much too familiar. 

The one Seokjin simply Does Not Like. 

As he approaches the counter, mood souring more and more the closer he gets to the other, he can finally make out the name on his name tag, reading “Wonho,” quotes and all, Seokjin is glad he finally has a name to put to the face of his Mortal Enemy. Granted, that was a bit harsh for someone Seokjin hadn’t actually met until today, especially when he had no claim over Yoon’s affections. If Wonho was close to Yoon, whether it was platonically or...otherwise, what reason did Seokjin have to be so disgruntled in the face of him? 

“Is Yoon here?” His tone is clipped when he asks, trying to sound nice but already tired of the interaction. 

“Yoon?” Wonho seems confused for a moment, unsurprising to Seokjin, until he gasps and starts, “Ah, do you mean Yoongi!” He doesn’t state it as a question and even though he’s not shouting anymore, Seokjin’s nerves still grate as if he was. Even so, the sound of Yoon’s full name, even said with that horrid lisp, was enough to make Seokjin sigh. 

Yoongi. What a perfect name for someone so beautiful. 

Seokjin must have taken too long to respond distracted as always by the thought of the blond, because Wonho’s voice breaks through to tell him “He’s not here right now!”

Any goodwill Seokjin was trying to muster for Wonho is destroyed in that moment. He’d just seen Yoongi not half an hour ago walking about the store, what did he mean the blond wasn’t there? Seokjin asks as much annoyance increasing the longer he has to talk to Wonho and not Yoongi.

“He stepped out, not sure when he’s going to be back!” Wonho responds with a smile, offering nothing further. Seokjin’s frustration reaches its peak. Forget giving a friend of Yoongi a chance, there was no point if they were going to be like Wonho. What kind of name is Wonho to begin with? It sounds as dumb as its owner looked, all vacant smile and ill fitting clothes. What was the point of wearing a shirt if it didn’t fit?

Seokjin stands at the counter, glaring while trying to calculate the most polite way to tell someone you thought they were as dumb as rocks, when he’s suddenly stopped. 

Through the muddled cloud of different plants filling the shop, a single unique scent cuts through. A mix of fig and what Seokjin remembers as being lily fills his senses. It’s so overwhelming that he stops thinking completely, mind wholly arrested by the feeling of warm and calm that overtakes him for a moment. 

“So, you’ve finally decided to come in?”

The voice from behind him, playful and rich in tone, startles Seokjin out of his stupor. When he turns to address the source, he’s met with Yoongi, stood less than a foot in front of him with his hair falling around his shoulders and dirt smudged on his face. His voice is much deeper than he thought it’d be, always imagining it like the jingle of bells on the wind, but it’s smooth, rolling quality was more beautiful than he could have imagined regardless. 

The sleeves of the sweater he wore were rolled up to his elbows, and Seokjin could see matching smudges on his forearms from where he tucked his hands into the pockets of his apron. At this distance, Seokjin saw that Yoongi’s height only just made it to his chin, and that he had more freckles than Seokjin had originally thought, and that his lips curved up a bit at the corners. 

He was truly breathtaking, and Seokjin must have stopped breathing because before he can respond to Yoongi, Wonho is chiming in just as loud and obnoxious as ever. 

“Yoongi, is this your friend? He’s been asking for you.”

_ Oh gods, Wonho please shut up. _

“Oh no,” Yoongi response tucking some of the fringe hanging in his face behind his ear, revealing the trio of dangling earring hanging from his lobe.  _ Pretty _ , Seokjin thinks. “He’s just someone I’ve seen hanging around the shop for a while. I was wondering when he’d come in.” 

Yoongi says it with an amuse lit to his voice, almost like he thinks what he’s saying is cute, but Seokjin is mortified. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to know he had been hanging around. This was supposed to be Seokjin’s moment to arrive, confident and suave for once, and sweep Yoongi off his feet. He was supposed to be the one being teased.  _ What is happening? _

“Oh so this is the guy you keep calling ‘Pretty Hyung’!” Wonho just says it like it’s nothing. Like Yoongi referring to him as “Pretty Hyung” wasn’t world shattering to Seokjin. “What were you looking for, Pretty Hyung?”

Seokjin was going to die, right here in the middle of Yoongi’s shop while the blond watched with his cute eyes and gorgeous chuckle. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi walks just a few inches closer to him, looking up at him through his long eyelashes, “what were you looking for, Pretty Hyung?” 

His voice is deeper somehow, mumbled but enticing it the way that Yoongi seems to draw the words “Pretty Hyung” out. Emphasising them like a challenge.

Seokjin was  _ literally _ going to die. How could this be happening to him? How could Yoongi be stood in front of him, batting his eyelashes, cheeks flushed and smile on his lips? What could he have possibly done to deserve to be put through this kind of torment?

“Come with me for coffee tomorrow afternoon?”

Seokjin doesn’t recognise his own voice, doesn’t register that he’s even spoken until the request has already fully left his lips and he can’t take it back.

Yoongi steps back, tilting his head to the side in what Seokjin hopes is amusement and not pity, before smiling.

“Sure.”


	3. Chapter 3

Seokjin still isn’t sure how he’s here.

One moment he was nearly dying of embarrassment, the next he was sat across from Yoongi while he sips at an iced americano. The weather is finally warming up, though Seokjin can’t be sure if that’s just Yoongi’s doing for their...outing (Seokijin can’t call it a first date, he’d combust before he was able to get the word out of his mouth) specifically or if it was the general nature of things. Either way the other dressed for the occasion. His hair was pinned back on one side by a number of sparkly barrettes and hairpins, though that didn’t stop him from messing with it every few moments, allowing Seokjin to appreciate the fresh coat of polish on his nails that he was certain wasn’t there the day before. Or perhaps, Seokjin just hadn’t noticed it. 

The rest of him is wrapped in a light, loose knit sweater that must have been purposely over sized, if Yoongi’s sweater paws and the way the neckline was half falling off of his shoulder exposing the strap of the tank top he wore underneath was any indication. What was it about Nestis’s employees and their ill fitting clothing? Though, where on Wonho the poorly fitting attire is annoying and unsightly, on Yoongi the loose clothing was much more enticing. It made him look softer, the material a light cream color that complimented the pink of his shoulders and cheeks, while giving him an edge, the exposed skin drawing Seokjin’s eyes every few moments as he’s trying to focus on what little small talk they’d managed to have between them.

It’s not awkward, not at all. Seokjin can tell they they’re both shy, Yoongi more so. Whenever Seokjin starts to speak, Yoongi will try and meet his eyes, hold contact for a moment or two before looking down at his drink. When it was his turn to speak, which seemed to be few and far between, Yoongi’s voice stayed in that low, mumbled drawl, the one Seokjin had taken for bold flirtation the day before but now thinks could just be nervousness. 

“Why did you actually come into the shop, Hyung?” Yoongi’s voice is just as small as it has been through out their conversation, but he asks this with so much shyness, and a small smile as he looks away after asking that had Seokjin’s heart skipping a beat in his chest.

“Oh, um, well,” Seokjin clears his throat, feeling the tips of his ears heat up, “partially it was to speak to you. I really had been meaning to ask you...out…” Seokjin winced. That sounded so juvenile. Asking someone out, what was he? A teenage mortal with a crush.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to have a problem with phrasing, not if the deepening of the flush on his cheeks and the way the small, shy smile on his face grows to a full grin was anything to go by. Gods, did everything Yoongi did have to be so overwhelmingly enchanting? It was beginning to become a distraction. 

“And the other reason?,” Yoongi asks, looking at shyly Seokjin from the corner of his eye. The image itself is so enchanting, so disarming that Seokjin was sat in stunned silence just looking at the other immortal. That same scent of fig and lily surrounds him again, filling the air around the table. He feels almost intoxicated off of it, like Yoongi was instead a siren, loring Seokjin in more and more with his charm and beauty, rather than the young, shy thing sat before him. He takes a moment more to enjoy the feeling before he remembers that Yoongi had asked him something,

“Uh,” Seokjin clears his throat, struggling for a second to remember what it was that the blond had asked, causing Yoongi to give a soft laugh in response. Seokjin tries not to get distracted by the way it sounds like chimes to him and continues, “I was supposed to buy Kihyun, sorry Hera...something for allergies? Chaste-something I think…?”

He stops himself before going on. How could he have forgotten that he had put himself on an errand for Kihyun. Of all people to forget that you owe a debt to it had to be his brother’s grudge keeping, revenge seeking spouse. 

It’s not that he was afraid of Kihyun so much as he knows what he’s capable of and the status he holds as the Lover of Zeus. He wouldn’t be killed or maimed necessarily, but the embarrassment and inconvenience of what he’s seen Kihyun do to others was enough to make him feel as if he’d served himself a death warrant.

“He’s going to be furious, oh gods,” Seokjin moans, giving up all pretense of confidence, throwing his head back and covering his eyes with each of his hands in despair. He groans again before leaning down on the table to hide his head in his arms, defeated and resigned to living this final day of his existence to the fullest he could. He tried to enjoy the sound of Yoongi’s laugh from above him, the tinkling yet raspy quality of it, but it was hard to when it was going to be the last time he’d ever heard it.

“Is it really that bad, Hyung?” Yoongi asks between bouts of laughter.

“Haven’t you heard about what he’d done to Jooheon the time he’d forgotten his anniversary?” Seokjin says, whinny and muffled from the comfort of his arms, “Turned him into a bird just for not remembering someone else’s wedding anniversary! I’m done for, it was so lovely knowing you, Yoongi.”

The younger immortal lets out another short burst of laughter. Seokjin peeks up at him and is met with yet another breathtaking image. Yoongi, it turns out, laughs with his whole body. His eyes squint and creases at the corners with the way his mouth stretches to accommodate the sound, cheeks burning a deep, almost red blush. He holds himself, arms wrapping around his torso as if to try and stop himself from going on but failing. 

_ Gods _ , Seokjin thinks watching as Yoongi returns to himself,  _ did I cause that? _   
  


“He wouldn’t want a whole sapling,” Yoongi says through a few final chuckles, “He only needs the leaves and bark, that’s where most immortal healing properties are.” He considers the other for a moment, head tilting just so and smiling a little, before getting up from his seat. “Come, I’ll make you a parcel for him.”

Without another word, Yoongi pushes in his chair, turns and starts to make his way across the road towards his shop. He does it as if he expects Seokjin to follow, as if he trusts that the other will. Seokjin doesn’t disappoint, jogging just slightly to catch up with the other.

The walk is only a short distance, just across the road and down a little ways, but it was long enough for Seokjin to admire the way the breeze fluttered through the ends of his hair.

“Thank you for taking me out, Hyung,” Yoongi stops to say right outside the front door. He looks up to meet Seokjin’s eye, his expression and tone so genuine, “No one’s ever asked me out before.”

“Really?” Seokjin already regrets asking the moment the word leaves his lips. 

“I don’t get out much,” Yoongi looks down then, fiddling with the keys in his hand, “Then, with my mom being the way she is…” He sounds so resigned, like he’s accepted this lot in his life, giving a small, humorless laugh.

“It really means a lot to me...to make new friends.” Yoongi says the last part so quietly, like he’s afraid to speak the words out loud. In that moment, Seokjin thinks he catches a glimpse of who Yoongi really is.

He’d been so enamored by Yoongi, by his beauty and his voice, that Seokjin had been ignoring they way Yoongi had acted towards him. Ignored the fact that he knew how Demeter and her lover were about their child, about the way they coveted them away from the rest of the immortal world, trying hide them amongst the mortals. How those who heard about Persephone’s beauty and power were driven by the desire to covet it away for themselves. How lonely Seokjin knew it was to carry such a heavy and burdensome reputation.

“We can do it again...I’d like to do it again, if you want to.” Seokjin’s tone is resolved and clear, hoping to convey his genuine desire to spend time with Yoongi, not just to admire his beauty but to learn about the other and become closer. 

Yoongi looks up at that, hands closing around the keys. His eyes are wide, trust and openness shining behind them. Seokjin’s heart skips a beat again, but this time he feels as though it meant it. 

“‘I’d love to, Hyung.”


	4. Chapter 4

The apartment is quiet when he gets back. 

Normally, that would make Seokjin suspicious, boarding on fearful. If BamBam, Yugyeom, and Jungkook weren’t being a loud obnoxious mess themselves, then they were  _ making  _ a loud obnoxious mess which was always worse for Seokjin. 

But this wasn’t a normal night. It was Date Night with Yoongi, the one night a week that Seokjin always anticipated with a mixture of excitement and anxiety since it became part of his routine. Even then tonight was different from the others that he’d gotten to enjoy the last few weeks.

It was the first night he’d gotten to walk Yoongi back to his little apartment, hand in hand. It was the first night they had kissed, Yoongi pressing his lips against Seokjin’s cheek in the place of a goodbye before rushing up the stairs and into the building. 

Seokjin had stood frozen in his place for who knows how long before Changkyun had shown up looking for him. Even then it was a still a haze on how he’d gotten home, not that it mattered.

Gods, when did Seokjin get so lucky? Having  _ Date _ nights with  _ Yoongi _ ?  _ Yoongi kissing him?  _ Who allowed this to happen, and how could he thank them? 

Seokjin continues to bask in the peace the silence brings with it for a while longer, reminiscing about the warmth Yoongi’s lips left on his cheek with his eyes closed blissfully, before he’s interrupted by the sound of crunching just about where he’s laid his head on the couch. Opening his eyes he’s met with the sight of Jungkook stood over him, spoon and bowl of what must be cereal in his hands. 

Swallowing the mouthful he has stuffing his cheeks, Jungkook takes a breath before bellowing, “Seokjin-hyung is back!”

All at once the apartment is filled with the sound of feet beating against the floor. Seokjin sighs before sitting up and waiting for his living room to fill.

It doesn’t take long until his roommates, read more like the stray teenagers he’d decided to allow to live with him, to make themselves comfortable around the room. Bambam is curled into the side chair across from the sofa, Jungkook is sat on the coffee table (something he is  _ not  _ supposed to be doing) still eating quite possibly the loudest bowl of cereal, and Yugyeom is sprawled out on the floor for so reason, their three dogs layed around him. Changkyun is there as well for some reason, sitting on the arm of the other side chair. It wasn’t that he wasn’t welcome in their home, just that he’d usually kept to himself or was spending time with Jungkook doing whatever it was that they did together.

They’re all focused in on him, staring, silently waiting. Seokjin isn’t sure what they’re searching for exactly, so he stares right back.

“Did you kiss him?”, Yugyeom blurts without preamble. The room goes from still silence to a flurry of activity as the Jungkook and Changkyun get up and start to punch and kick at the other. Changkyun, who remains sitting, just covers his face with his hands, cringing and shaking his head. Seokjin for his part stays still, staring at the commotion and waiting for context.

“What the hell, Gyeom!” Jungkook yells, stomping on the other as he continues to clutch the bowl in his hands. A few pieces of cereal fly out, landing on the floor. They’re easily cleaned up by one of the dogs, who are too used to these outbursts to be affected by them, outside of being disgruntled that they’re naps were interrupted.

“What?”, Yugyeom responds, curled into a ball and protecting his head from blows,“Jungkook said he saw it happen! Why am I getting yelled!?”

“That’s not the point!” BamBam shouts. Seokjin lets them continue a moment more, their yelling too loud for them to hear if he had spoken up anyway, before he stands and physically separates the three.

“Are you guys done?” Seokjin asks, tone put out. The three of them share a look, like they’re deciding amongst themselves if it’s worth it to continue causing a ruckus. The “Yes” they say in unison seems to mean they are ready to stop, for now, which is enough for Seokjin. 

The older immortal sighs, letting go of the grip he had on BamBam and Jungkook’s shoulders and steps back. Yugyeom stays laid out on the floor, making himself comfortable it seems. Seokjin sighs again, feeling a headache start in the back of his head, before he begins to speak.

“Not sure why you’d need to ask if Jungkook already told you, but I suppose yes,” he feels his face start to heat up and clears his throat, finishing with “Yoon- Persephone kissed me.”

He can’t fight the way his lips stretch into a grin at the thought of it, of the way Yoongi had pressed his lips to his cheek, quick like a flash, face flushed and expression bright before he turned to run up the stairs to his apartment. He notices the trio making knowing looks, and he scoffs.

“It was just on the cheek, you creeps. Stop leering and get Yugyeom off the ground,” Seokjin scoofs again, before turning his back to the room and making his way toward the kitchen.

Suddenly the air is sucked out of the room, lights flickering and then dimming completely. He hears Changkyun gasp behind him and turns to see Jungkook, BamBam and Yugyeom all crouched on the floor. Their hands are clenched together, as if they were frozen in the middle of helping Yugyeom up from the ground. The three of them are crouched in a sort of semi-circle in the middle of the room, heads thrown back and eyes completely whited out with their mouths agape. Seokjin has seen each of the trio have visions before. He’s witnessed BamBam, Jungkook and Yugyeom’s eyes glow gold and violet and blue respectively before. He’s heard Jungkook’s excitement for the good luck he’d predicted, had taken BamBam’s advice when it came to business, and had heeded Gyeom’s warnings when he gave them. This was different. They’d never shared a vision before, they’d never altered the atmosphere of the room. 

There’s a hum of energy in the room, making the hair on the back of Seokjin’s neck stand up. It seems to match the audible hum that’s coming out of each of the boys, each coming together to harmonise in an eerie, haunting melody. They continue to hum, the tone rising and falling in a chilling, broken song, and then, with one voice they speak.

“ _ King of the Underworld, Keeper of Lost Souls, Protector of Elysium, Hades. Promised to be wed to she who dwells in both realms. Goddess of Spring, Daughter of the Harvest and the River, Persphone. Their reign will be eternal, union unmatched. Gracious, just, prosperous.” _

Seokjin’s breath catches in his throat. He had felt the pull towards Yoongi, of course he had how couldn’t he notice the way he was drawn to the other immortal. He didn’t know , however, that it wasn’t just his heart just, his emotions binding him to Yoongi. It was fate. It had been decided by the stars that they were to be together, perhaps ruled before either of them had even been created. Part of Seokin feels a twinge of pain at this knowledge, but it’s overwhelmed by the joy of knowing that they were meant for each other. That there was nothing that could separate them from each other.

That is until Yugyeom gives a groan, sounding almost like wail that is matched by the other two before they continue on.

_ “Yet their match is not destined. Another stands in the path of our King, keeping our Queen away from her rightful throne. Dearest companion of Persephone, Son of Danae, Breaker of Unions.” _

Seokjin’s heart stops, breath catching in his throat. He knows exactly who it is the three are referring to and his heart sinks. 

“Wonho.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lately, Yoongi has been finding himself getting distracted easily.

One moment he’ll be tending to the potted flowers in his shop’s small, indoor greenhouse, the next he’ll find himself surrounded by vines of Sweet Pea and Morning Glory without noticing where they’d come from. Wonho tells him that he must be daydreaming, that this used to happen when they were kids and he hadn’t fully learned to control his abilities. It’s embarrassing to think that his mind has been wandering so easily lately that he can’t even stop himself from blossoming flowers randomly anymore. Especially when the reason his thoughts were so unorganised was something as silly as a boy.

Though referring to Seokjin as just a boy was juvenile at best. To Yoongi, he was so much more than that, so much more than just someone who he spent a lot of time with. He spent a lot of time with Wonho, he spent almost all his time with the demigod in fact, but the feeling he got when he was with Wonho was so different from the one he felt with the older immortal. There was a flutter in his chest, a warmth in his cheeks, a pleasant buzzing in his ears that only happened when he was with Seokjin or even just thinking about him. 

He’s taken out of his thoughts by the familiar feeling of an arm landing on his shoulder. He looks up to see Wonho smiling down at him. It’s the kind of smile he always had before he got both of them in trouble when they were children.

“What is it?” Yoongi asks, tone unimpressed and bored in an effort to try and stop Wonho from doing whatever it was that he was planning.

“What do you mean?,” the demigod responses, expression and tone cloaked in mock innocence, “Can’t I just hug my friend? Is that a crime?”

“You’re making that face, the one that means you’re plotting something,” Yoongi moves from under the other’s arm, crossing his own as he looks up at him. “What is it now, Wonho?”

“Jimin-ssi called,” Wonho offers. “Just wanted to let you know he’s on his way over.” He says it in a way that doesn’t feel like a real answer to Yoongi’s question, and Yoongi says as much. Wonho just continues to smile and tell him that there’s nothing for him to worry about, that he should just keep daydreaming until their friend arrives.

His tone is mostly teasing when he jokes about Yoongi’s tendency to let his thoughts fall on Seokjin, but there’s a biting edge to it that Yoongi has noticed as of late. 

Wonho had always been protective of him, taking the few days difference between their birthdays as an excuse to act like the older brother he really wasn’t and Yoongi hadn’t asked for. It was nice when they were younger. He helped Yoongi understand the workings of the mortal realm, taught him how to mask his immortal heritage and even fought the more unpleasant children for him when their teasing about Yoongi’s softer, more outwardly “feminine” appearance and tendencies became just a bit too harsh. 

Yoongi is reminded of that younger, harsher Wonho now as he watches him flex and relax his hands in the familiar way he does when he’s trying to distract himself. He thinks about how much the other clings to him when Seokin visits, how, thinking back now, Wonho would distract him with minor problems to try and keep him in the shop longer when he and Seokjin had plans. He knew that Wonho liked to make others jealous, that he lived to tease, he’s even mentioned how funny he found the look the Seokjin gave him whenever he hugged Yoongi goodbye. Still, it made Yoongi think. 

“Wonho...what do you think of Seokjin-hyung?” He asks it with hesitation, unsure what he would do or how he’d feel if Wonho truly thought negatively of the older immortal. Wonhomeant so much to Yoongi, as his oldest and dearest friend, but Yoongi is beginning to believe Seokjin may mean just as much to him. 

“Hmmm,” Wonho seems to take a moment to think, genuinely considering his opinion. “He seems nice enough, maybe a little too serious? It doesn’t seem like he likes me very much, does it?”

Wonho lets out a short burst of laughter, the sound a booming staccato like always, genuinely finding it funny that a major god found him unpleasant. Yoongi wanted to argue that Seokjin couldn’t possibly dislike the demigod, but Wonho starts speaking again.

“But...you seem happy with him, so I like him for now.” Wonho looks at him, genuine in the contentment in his voice, “I’ll wait to see what happens when he finally makes a move though...to see if he’s worthy of you.” He smiles again, reaching out to ruffle Yoongi’s hair, before turning to head behind the counter and then exiting through the door leading into the back.

Yoongi’s not sure what Wonho means by “make a move”. He’s had people, mortal and immortal alike, approach him as potential suitors, but they never made it far. With the way his parents were overprotective and doting to a fault, no one ever stood a chance when it came to potential romance in Yoongi’s life. Even without their constant interference in his life, Yoongi never felt much of a pull towards anyone in that way. 

With Seokjin, it felt different however.

It wasn’t like the affection he felt with Wonho, that warm, familiar love reserved for his parents grown from childhood. He couldn’t compare it to his friendship with Jimin, even with the prophet being so close and so dear to him. Not even the affinity he had for beings in his domain, as instinctive as it was, could match they way just thinking about the older immortal made him feel.

With Seokjin, there was no feeling of being lesser, like he was someone was too innocent, too naive and who needed to be guided through life. There was no need to be modest and quaint as the older, higher ranked being like it was when it came to his friends. He could just be Yoongi. He could be shy and quiet knowing the silence would linger pleasantly between them. He could be witty and ramble on without fear that it would be too far from what was expected of him.

When it came to Seokjin, everything felt right.

The realisation startles Yoongi, making him catch his breath as he stands frozen in the middle of his shop. He would never have guessed that Aphrodite would be so gracious as to bless him with someone like Seokjin, but Yoongi is so grateful to be seen as worthy of him. 

He sends a hushed prayer in thanks, feeling his face warm with the flush of new love. He’s finishing just as Jimin walks in, skin literally glowing with light even as he calls out into the shop that he and Apollo are in a fight.

Yoongi laughs quietly to himself, before turning his focus to his pouting dongsaeng, feeling for the first time to talk on matters of the heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Jimin makes a surprise visit one afternoon while he sits at his vanity, attempting to try a new style on his hair. Truthfully, it’s not much of a surprise since Jimin always visits whenever Hoseok is busy with classes at his studio. Yoongi can come to expect the young oracle on most weekend afternoons without fail, cheeks glowing golden light from where he’s sure Hoseok spent an obscene amount of time pressing kisses to. 

Wonho is also there of course, when is he not, stopping by to spend some time with his friends before heads out for a night at Dionysis’s club. The three of them spread out throughout Yoongi’s small bedroom. They’re catching up, Wonho and Jimin trading stories about their latest outings to the market while Yoongi attempts to french braid the front of his hair. 

He’s not usually this particular about his appearance but the way that Seokjin looks at him whenever he does something new with his hair just does something to him. The fluttering feeling in his stomach was almost addictive, and if all he had to do to have Seokjin look at him with that look was style his hair he’d gladly do it. However, as he starts on his fifth attempt at getting his hair to lay flat and even, Yoongi thinks maybe sticking to a simple ponytail would be better. Seokijn didn’t seem to be picky.

“Hyungie, how are things with...Seokjin?” Jimin sounds unsure when he asks even as he’s laid sprawled on Yoongi’s bed, like he’s nervous to be saying the god’s name out loud. 

“They’re good, Jiminie,” Yoongi answers, ignoring the way Jimin’s tone nagged at him. “Why are you asking like that?’

“Ah, no reason!” Jimin tries to laugh it off, sitting up and leaning back on his hands in an attempt to seem relaxed, but it comes off forced. Even Wonho notices, being bold enough to ask what the younger was talking about. 

“It’s just that...,” Jimin trails off for a moment, seeming to take a moment to collect his thoughts and chose his words carefully, “well, I’m worried for you...”   
  


“Worried?”, Yoongi asks turning to look at the others. He shares an uncertain look with Wonho, both of them seeming to be confused as to where Jimin is going with this line of questioning. 

Yoongi doesn’t understand, even goes so far to feel slightly insulted. Would anyone be worried about him, especially when it related to Seokjin of all people. He turns to look directly Jimin as his confusion grows. 

“Not just me! Hoseokie, and some of the other minor immortals are worried as well.”

“I don’t understand, why would you be worried.”   
  
“It’s just that,” Jimin hesitates for a moment, stumbling over his words, “Seokjin is a little...dark don’t you think?”

“Dark?” Yoongi asks, voice taking on a clipped tone, annoyance bleeding into his words. “Jimin I literally have no idea what you mean.” He settles Jimin with a pointed look, trying to convey his disapproval of the topic, before turning back to the mirror and picking up his hairbrush. He’s not normally confrontational, he’s never talked back or raised his voice to anyone before in his life, but something about the way Jimin was talking about Seokjin made him upset in a way he’s never felt before. 

The atmosphere in the room becomes heavy, no sound other than the scrap of the brush dragging roughly through the knots at the end of Yoongi’s hair. The silence continues for a moment more before it’s broken by Jimin speaking up again. 

“It’s just that, he’s- I mean I don’t want to sound rude but- he’s-”

The crash of the hairbrush slamming against the counter of the vanity cuts Jimin off. Yoongi can just make out the sound of Jimin gasping through the ringing in his ears. He says his name in warning, tells him to stop, hoping the seriousness of his tone is enough to silence the younger, but it seems to have no effect other than pushing the prophet to finally say what he’s been thinking.

“What? He’s the Lord of Death, Hyung! Doesn’t that scare you? How are you be spending so much time with him?”

“Why would that matter!?” Yoongi screams, shooting up from his seat and knocking off clips and pins from the counter behind him, “He makes me happy, can’t that be enough for you!”

He can feel the leaves of the plants in his house tremble at the outburst, his influence reaching the flora outside and shaking the foundation of the building. Yoongi can see the flicker of gold light reflecting on his cheeks and nose, and feel a burst of energy tingling at his fingertips, a product of his anger. 

There was shock in Wonho’s face from where he sat. Fear was reflected in Jimin’s. Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was so tired of everyone treating him like a child, like he wasn’t able to think for himself. He knew who Seokjin was, he knew the reputation he carried with him. 

Hades, King of the Damned, the Feared Ruler of the Underworld. He wasn’t stupid. From the moment he’d first saw Seokjin, Yoongi could feel the power he carried with him. Even when he kept his distance in the beginning, Yoongi could sense the aura of Death that he carried with him, that shadow of the Underworld that seemed to cloak Seokjin even in the middle of the day. He knew, even without having spent much time if any around other immortals, what associating with Seokjin would do to the way others saw him. That didn’t change the fact that he was the only person in Yoongi’s life who treated like they were equal, the only one gave Yoongi an ounce of genuine respect that wasn’t clouded by some dumb sense of propriety.

The thought that someone could see their relationship as something dark made Yoongi’s anger flare again, prompting another tremble to shake through the building. Wonho gets up, slowly approaching him in an attempt to calm him down. He takes Yoongi by the shoulders, moving him back to the vanity chair, crouching down in front of Yoongi and rubbing his knuckles trying to comfort him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jimin offers, still shaken by Yoongi’s reaction to him, “I’m just tired. I’ve been having so many visions with you in them, and it’s just been so hard to get any sleep.”

“Visions?” Wonho asks, still trying to calm down Yoongi. For his part, Yoongi closes his eyes and attempts to draw back in his influence. 

“Yeah,” Jimin attempts, hesitant and not looking at either of the others, “I haven’t been able to get a clear understanding of what they’re about. It’s always Yoongi-hyung, surrounded by this, inky blackness. He looks so unhappy, almost like he’s trapped or being kept within it. And his eyes...gods they were blood red, Hyung”

Yoongi can feel Wonho’s gaze on him, can tell from the way that the pressure on his hands increases that the demigod is unnerved by what Jimin had seen, but he continues to focus on slowing his breathing. 

He could tell his small group of friends saw him as different after the amount of time he’d been spending time with Seokjin. He was more vocal, making his opinions known and arguing back against things he didn’t like. He was a bit more obviously grumpy, a little more openly sarcastic. The way he acted when he was alone with Seokjin had began to bleed into the way he behaved around others, changing him from the soft spoken person that most were used to into someone unfamiliar but arguably closer to who Yoongi really was. 

The most obvious was the way his appearance had changed. The silver of his hair, a clear marker for the beginning of the spring season, had quickly began to darken much quicker than the way it normally would as spring wore on. Just a month into the season and his hair was already a medium brown rather than the golden blonde it should be at this point.

While Yoongi didn’t see any of this as any reason to be alarmed, he could understand a little of how the sudden shift in his personality would come as a shock to others. 

“If you trust me,” Yoongi said, voice soft, “then you should trust my judgement.” He was still annoyed, tone still slightly clipped, but less so now that he’d taken the time to think about how everyone around him felt. As much as he wanted to blame them, he understood why they reacted the way did to Seokjin. He obviously wasn’t blind to the history and reputation the older god carried with him, as fabricated and false as it felt with how close they had grown to each other. Yoongi can only hope that those closest to him can look past that prejudice and allow him this small happiness with Seokjin. 

The air still hangs heavy around the three, Yoongi’s influence slowly slipping from the room until they all feel safe enough to breathe again. They sit in silence for a moment more as everything settles until Jimin breaks it with a soft call of “Hyung”. Both Wohno and Yoongi turn their attention to the younger, taking in the way he’s curled into himself, looking down at his hands in his lap. 

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Hyung,” Jimin sounds so sad when he says it that Yoongi can’t help but feel a pang in heart at his tone. “I’m just scared for you, even if you don’t see it. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighs, letting go of Wonho’s hands and standing. He takes a seat next to Jimin, waiting a moment before reaching out to place his hands over the prophet’s, giving the other enough time to pull away. Yoongi stays quiet, not sure what would be the best thing to say, but hoping that the contact is enough for Jimin to accept as his own forgiveness and apology. 

He does, turning his hands to fully hold his hyung’s, sighing and leaning into Yoongi with what can only be relief. 


	7. Chapter 7

Yoongi has never been to a club before. Not when he was a teenanger, nor when he’d become an adult by mortal standards. Maybe it has something to do with the way he was raised, or the general shy, nervousness that he carried with him always, but the idea had never appealed to him much before tonight. 

He liked the spontaneity that comes with dressing up and going out on a moment’s notice. It was something that Wonho did often, enjoying the excitement of sudden plans and the rush of spontaneity. It was a trait that most people attributed to Wonho being simpleminded but was more so a part of the carefree attitude he’d worked hard to cultivate.

It was that carefreeness that Yoongi wanted to channel now, especially after his outburst at Jimin earlier. Even after apologising and the younger reassuring him that he understood his reason for becoming upset, Yoongi still felt as though he needed a distraction from the way the conversation had made him feel. Granted suddenly asking if he could join Wonho on his night out possibly raised the demigod’s concern for him, but the other still accepted his company.

That’s how Yoongi finds himself stood at the entrance of Baekkhia, pressed against Wonho’s side as they make their way through the packed crowd. 

Nights are still brisk and chilling despite being well into the spring, something that Yoongi couldn’t change even with his control over the season’s domain, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from the heat created from the way the bodies on the dancefloor pressed together and moved. Originally he’d questioned Wonho’s choices for their outfits, arguing that the demigod’s fitted crop top and ripped pants along with his own distressed jeans, denim jacket and sheer top weren’t enough to fight off the cold night air, but now Yoongi’s grateful for the choice as they arrive at the bar on the other side of the dancefloor.

The music is so loud that Yoongi isn’t able to make out what Wonho says to the man behind the bar, the bass seeming to thump through the very foundation of the building and straight into his bones. There’s more people stood at the bar around them than he’s been around in his entire life at one time, even more just feet away on the dancefloor. Even with his inexperience with people, Yoongi can sense quite a few immortals amongst the crowd, their influences and energies bleeding through the already heavy, almost intoxicating atmosphere of the mortal souls that fill the club. From minor gods and mythic beings to full immortals, Yoongi could feel every flux in their life force from where he was standing at the bar. Especially the DJ, who, even from his spot on a raised stage at the opposite side of the room, had a cloying lure to him that Yoongi felt pulling at him.

It was enough to almost give him a headache.

When Wonho turns back to him, Yoongi almost tells him that he wants to leave, that this isn’t the distraction he thought he wanted and that he’s sorry for ruining the demigod’s night but he’d really rather be taken home now. He doesn’t get the chance as Wonho’s placing a drink in his hand, something pink in color and sweet smelling that matches the one in his own hand.

Yoongi looks down at it, confused for a moment as to why Wonho would hand him a drink, before looking up to ask as loudly as he can over the music, “What is this?”

“Something sweet,” Wonho responds, taking a long sip from his drink with an amused smile, “It’s the weakest mortal drink I could order. Try it.”

Yoongi looks down again at the cup in his hand. He’s never drank before, neither having the occasion nor much of a desire, but he knew from both Jimin and Wonho that mortal alcohol didn’t affect them much. He doubts it would be any different for himself but he still raises the glass to his lips with hesitation and only takes a small sip. Like Wonho said, the taste of it was sweet, like a mix of watermelon and maybe cherry, with a faint sharpness that Yoongi could only guess was whatever alcohol was mixed into it. It was good, he liked it enough to take a second braver sip and told Wonho his opinion before continuing onto a third. 

His reaction was met with laughter from Wonho, the demigod’s glass still mostly full. Yoongi remembers him mentioning that even with the high tolerance he has, he doesn’t like to drink too much, that it made for too many bad decisions. Taking another long sips of the fruity drink, the distant sting returning in a somewhat pleasant way to the back of his tongue, Yoongi couldn’t understand the reasoning. 

Wonho eyes the now nearly empty glass in Yoongi’s hand, looking up to meet the other’s eyes. His expression was searching, for what Yoongi wasn’t completely sure. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he’d found it but the taller immortal did lean into him, empty hand placed on his elbow as the spoke into Yoongi’s ear, “We’ll just stay for a few songs and then head home, okay? No reason to over do it, okay?”

Yoongi pulls back to argue that he’s not but the look of worry hidden behind a slightly forced smile on Wonho’s face is enough to stop him. He reminds himself about his earlier outburst and Wonho’s usual brotherly concern for him, calming himself enough to just nod in agreement. He knows Wonho can see the slight pout of annoyance he’s trying to fight and they both share a small laugh before Yoongi finishes his drink. 

They spend a good part of the night moving between their spot by the bar and the edge of the dance floor. Yoongi thinks that Wonho can tell he’s too nervous about going any further onto the floor, the amount of people overwhelming enough just in appearance that Yoongi could imagine being among them, and keep them as far from the center as he can as they move along to the DJ’s set. Most of the songs Yoongi can recognise as ones he’s heard Wonho and Jimin play in the shop or in his apartment when they hang out but a few of the ones with heavier bass are unfamiliar to him. Regardless he finds himself having fun, swaying along to the music, hand in hand with his friend. It’s almost like he’s any other 20-something on a Saturday night enjoying his youth. 

At some point, Wonho steps away for a moment, leaving Yoongi alone at the bar. It’s between DJ sets and Wonho mentions wanting to say hello to the person who’s set had just finished. There’s a flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, reminiscent of the way he’d look when talking about his crushes when they were younger, so Yoongi gladly let’s him go with the promise that he’ll remain where he’s stood at the bar.

Without the other, Yoongi’s confidence lowers almost drastically, suddenly feeling very exposed his borrowed sheer top. The nervousness makes his throat dry so while pulling his jacket closed across his chest and securing it with crossed arms, Yoongi leans against the bar counter and waits to get one of the bartenders’ attention. It doesn’t take longer than a minute or two before the tall, muscular man behind the counter meets eyes with Yoongi and approaches to him take his order. His face is friendly enough but the quickness with which he’d seen Yoongi didn’t give much time to overcome any of his nerves.

He clears his throat and says, “Something Sweet?” as clearly as he can over the beginning of the next set. It comes out as a question, the description being the only thing he can remember about the drink Wonho had been ordering him throughout the night. The bartender gives him an amused look before turning to the bottles and glasses lining the wall behind him to mix his order.

When turns back around Yoongi’s hope that he’d order correctly were dashed. Instead of pink, the glass he was handed was gold in color, the liquid almost seeming to swirl on it’s own as it sat on the counter in front of him. He realises that he’s been looking at the glass for longer than is normal and quickly picks it up, digging in his pocket for the cash Wonho had handed him and paying. He walks away from the bar, not so far as Wonho wouldn’t be able to find him when he returned but far enough that he’s sure that the bartender couldn’t see the way his face had gone red in embarrassment. 

Yoongi looks down at the drink in his hand. It isn’t at all what he had hoped he ordered, it smelled nothing like the fruity drink had wanted and there was something odd about the way there was condensation beading along the outside of the glass even though he couldn’t make out any ice in the drink itself. Still, he had paid for it, with Wonho’s money no less, and he wasn’t willing to let it go to waste. 

Raising the glass to his lips, the smell of sugar hit him, almost stinging his nostrils. ‘Well’, he thought as he tilted his head back to take a sip, ‘at least it’ll be sweet.’

The first thing he feels as the drink hits his tongue is warmth. It spreads from his fingertips and toes, up his arms and legs, settling in his chest. It’s immediately followed by a sudden but strangely not unpleasant wave of dizziness that only lasts for as long as the drink takes to mouth from his throat to his stomach. He startles, coughing a little at the effect just a single sip on him.

___

Seokjin should have known that Jackson’s plan wasn’t going to work. 

It was foolish to think that a night at Baekkhia would be enough to distract him from the turmoil within his heart, even more so to think that a place like a nightclub would even appeal to Yoongi enough that he’d come the same night as Seokjin himself, let alone any night. A god of debauchery knew nothing of matters of the heart. He made sure to tell Jackson as much as he grabbed his coat and exited the VIP area. He’s not sure the other god even noticed him leave with the way he’d been focused on who between he and Jingyoung could kiss the longest without stopping for breath. Seokjin wanted to let his brother he was leaving but Shownu seemed to just as distracted by Kihyun giggled in his ear from his place on the other’s lap wrapped in the god’s arms. Seokjin rolls his eyes and pushes pass security on his way out of the lounge.

He thinks about the time of night and whether it was too late to call Yoongi as he’s making he was through the crowd and towards the door when he’s hit with the familiar scent of fig and lily. It stops him in his tracks, right at the edge of the crowded dance floor.

“Yoongi?”, he asks, aloud looking around to try and see if he can spot the younger immortal anywhere by. He thinks he spots him, another wave of the scent wafting from towards the bar where he can tell there’s something like a fight breaking out. Afraid that Yoongi could be involved, Seokjin pushes his way through the crowd as quickly as he can manage.

Once he gets there, he’s met with the sight of someone who Seokjin can only guess is Wonho from his build and an incredibly intoxicated Yoongi. The immortal sways in place as the demigod pulls him against his side, seeming to be as an attempt to keep him from leaving. Wonho’s back is turned to Seokjin, but Yoongi stands looking out onto the dancefloor. The closer he gets, the more Seokjin can make out the unfocused way Yoongi looks out onto the crowd. His pupils are blown wide, a thin ring of gold glowing around the black and his eyes travel around the room, never settling on anything for longer than a second at a time. The glow explains why Yoongi seems to be completely covered in flowers, blossoms blooming out from beneath his jacket and through most of the seams of his clothing.


	8. Chapter 8

“Holy Shit, it’s Yoongi!” 

That’s the first thing he hears when he enters Seokjin’s apartment for the first time. He turns to Changkyun, who was kind enough to give him a ride and led him up to the correct floor, to try and understand why someone would be screaming that but is only met with a deep exhausted sigh before Changkyun is gone in a puff of smoke. 

He had come in an attempt to try and ask Seokjin what had happened at Baekkhia. He couldn’t remember much through the haze he found ambrosia put him in, just that they’d both been there and that they had perhaps talked briefly. That was it He hadn’t heard from him, he’s tried calling and had even tried to borrow Wonho’s cellphone to see if he could text him, though the demigod had refused to let him. Nothing had worked, which is why he now finds himself stood in Seokjin’s apartment for the first time, dressed down in a hand me down flannel and beanie instead of the nice, coordinated, post date outfit that he’d always imagined he’d be in. 

___

Entering Seokjin’s bedroom, Yoongi would think that it was the middle of the night rather than midday. It was as if all the light had been had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind only inky, pitch black. 

He walked carefully towards the center of the room, unsure of it’s layout. Yoongi strode until he couldn’t anymore, reaching what felt like it could be a bed when Yoongi ran his hand along the mass he found in front of him. Moving up towards what he assumed was the head of the bed, he continues to move his hand up until he stopped by the feeling of warmth. It feels like a hand, the bumpy, crookedness of the knuckles familiar to him. Before he can say anything in an attempt to confirm that it’s Seokjin, he stopped again by a flash of run at the corner of his eye. 


	9. Chapter 9

When he enters Aphrodite’s shop, Yoongi doesn’t take in the surroundings. He doesn’t remember the name of the store, or what the items lining the pastel pink shelves and displays are. He only knows that the moment he sees Hyungwon hurry quickly, eyes wide and fearful and calling out “Minhyuk-ssi!” as he flees from the counter to a door behind it, that his only goal is to talk to Aphrodite. 

He tries to be as calm as possible, despite the way he can feel the tips of his fingers tingle and his eyes ache from the power that he feels bubbling just below the surface. Just the thought of what Aphrodite had done to him, to Wonho, to Seokjin, was enough to have him clenching his fists, overwhelmed with a level of anger he’d never felt before. 

How dare he. 

How dare he make Yoongi feel so much, to make him believe he’d found someone who saw him as a real person and not some unobtainable prize. How dare he make Yoongi believe that he was actually deserving of the affections of someone as good as Seokjin. How dare he do the same to Seokjin, tainting the love and trust Yoongi had given him freely.

Aphrodite was making him wait. Yoongi wasn’t sure if it was a power move or a stalling tactic, but the longer he was made to wait in the empty store, the closer he came to destroying it from the very foundation itself.

Finally, someone enters. He’d never met Aphrodite in person but he’d admit that the descriptions did him justice.

There was something of a genderless beauty to Aphrodite, which made sense Yoongi supposed. He walked with a grace that made it seem like he was floating rather than moving his legs at all, long, slender arms swinging relaxed at his side making the loose shirt sleeves he wore flutter. Once he’s placed a respectable distance between himself and the other immortal, Minhyuk ran his hand through his hair, flipping the long chestnut locks over his shoulder and sighing while leaning back against the counter. His entire demeanor was as if he was completely disinterested in this entire encounter which only made Yoongi more pissed than he already was. 

“Can I help you with something, Persephone?” His tone is light, almost sing-song with the accent he uses, and it only adds to the annoyance Yoongi feels. As if he didn’t know what he’d done.

“Undo it.”

“I’m sorry,” Minhyuk tilts his head as if he hadn’t heard what Yoongi had just said to him, “What exactly are you talk-”

“You know what I’m talking about, asshole. Undo what you did to me and Seokjin.” Yoongi’s voice is steady when he speaks, only his anger and disgust bleeding into his tone as he addresses the other god. In any other circumstance, with any other immortal, he’s sure he might have addressed the other with more respect, might have spoken with a lighter tone. But not today. 

“Firstly, I don’t take kindly to insults, thank you very much. I’m sure your mother taught you how to ask for things nicely,” Minhyuk gives a humorless laugh as he pushes off the counter and begins to make his way around it. 

“Cut the bull-”

“Secondly,” he cuts Yoongi off, tone allowing for no interruption, “I won’t be undoing anything, not that I could in the first place. If that’s all you came for, then I believe we’re done here.”

He begins rearranging products on display in front of him, back turned to Yoongi as if he wasn’t even there. As if he hadn’t single handedly ruined everything Yoongi had thought to be good in his life. The indifference made something snap in Yoongi. 

“What? What do you mean you won’t undo anything? You’re the one who made us like this in the first place, bastard! Fix it!” Yoongi had never raised his voice at someone in the entirety of his existence, not one single time. Now, he stands in defiance in the face of a god millenia older than him, near hoarse from shouting his disdain. 

When Minhyuk keeps his back turned, Yoongi can see the bit of golden light reflecting from his eyes on his cheeks intensify, and feel the energy spark and flare along his forearms and fingertips. “You think you can just mess with people as if they’re your play things, is that it? That just because you deal in Love that there’s no harm in your actions? Give me a fucking break! People are supposed to have free will, they’re meant to choose who they love, not have their fate decided by some ugly, fucking hack-”

The room is suddenly filled with a chill, like the air had been sucked out all at once. The lights lining the shelves and displays seeming to dim as well, plunging the entire room in a moody, almost claustrophobic atmosphere. There was an oppressive energy coming from Aphrodite as he turns and approaches Yoongi, rolling off of him in waves and pinning Yoongi to where he stood. It makes Yoongi choke back the words he was about to say as Aphrodite stops right in front of him. 

“I believe you forget to whom you’re speaking to, dear Persephone.” Aphrodite looms over him, eyes glowing pale blue and tone clipped despite his otherwise calm demeanor. He looks over Yoongi for a moment, like he’s considering if he should speak or simply evaporate him where he stands, before speaking again. “I am not some simple cherubim placing schoolboy crushes on mortals, young one, and you’d be smart to show some respect when you address me before I turn you into the toad you remind me of.”

Aphrodite considers him again, looking at the way Yoongi’s brow is still furrowed in a scowl and the inky blackness of hair floats around his face like thorny vines. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, flipping the remaining hair in front of his face off his shoulder and then continues in an equally annoyed tone. 

“As for you situation with our dearest Hades, there’s nothing for me to ‘undo’, as you put it, as I didn’t do enough to cause it in the first place. This is all your doing, Persephone.”

Yoongi is shocked. _ His _ fault? How could all of this be _ his fault _?

“Well, not entirely just you,” Aphrodite takes a step back, the atmosphere calming slightly, enough for Yoongi to let his guard down a little, but not completely, “Seokjin had some hand in it, and I did make it so that you’d meet, I’ll admit. Maybe asked Hyungwon to play at Dionysus’s party as a way to give you the extra nudge you two both seemed to need. Other than that, however, I had no hand in anything that’s happened between you two. You two created this mess for yourselves.”

Anger flares up in Yoongi again, “But you’re the Goddess of Love, how can this not be you’re doing!”

“Oh sweetheart, you said it yourself. People, mortal and immortal alike, have free will. Maybe in the past they felt as if they were ruled by the fate I created for them, but they were never truly trapped by it. Love is spoken about as the ruling force in all realms. Mortals go to war for it, bleed, and die for it. The cosmos are spun from it. Do you think I’d just wield power like that so freely and without thought?”

The air slowly returned to the room as Minhyuk spoke, his tone softening with it. He now stood looking at Yoongi with a gently mix of sadness and pity.

“I may have created the seed of love between you and Seokjin, Yoongi, but you two grew it.”

___

Minhyuk lets him calm down before walking him to the door. Yoongi doesn’t say much to the other immortal, as drained as he felt from being so on edge. He mumbles out a soft apology for disrupting his day and for scaring Hyungwon so badly, which Minhyuk accepts with a chuckle paired with a squeeze on the shoulder and badly veiled threat in the form of an offhand “I’m _ sure _ it won’t happen again!”. With a final forced goodbye, Yoongi begins the walk to his apartment, thoughts a mess. 

They were the cause of their own strife? How did that make sense, when everything had a cause, a root from which it stemmed. If Minhyuk was the source of that beginning, then why wasn’t he the one to blame for everything going wrong. Why couldn’t he fix it? He had to, Yoongi couldn’t be the one the one to bring Seokjin back.

Yoongi isn’t sure what to do with this information but he knows one thing for certain. 

He wants to see Seokjin.


End file.
